


Shallow

by A_murder_of_crows



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, this is kind of dramatic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 21:23:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6923872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_murder_of_crows/pseuds/A_murder_of_crows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're angry. He's angry. It's your dynamic. It calms you, sets you back on your feet. Is it hate? You don't know. He's not your pillar or shield, he's something else entirely.<br/>He's a sparring partner. You attack each other until you're exhausted. There are no rules, no restrictions. You just let it all out on him. The walls have indents shaped like his back and your arm has an imprint of his hand.<br/>And yet, when he's not there, you're restless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shallow

     He thinks you're shallow. You can see it in the scowl he makes every time you speak to him. The furrow of his brow tells you more than the words yelled out of his mouth. Oh, how you love snapping at him. Your hands itch with the desire to push him into the nearest wall and scream your lungs out until both your throat and his eyes are raw. 

    He always looks surprised because you never yell at anyone else, but he pushes you over the edge, makes your blood boil, your nerves sting, and you see red. 

    Every pore of his screams wild. His eyes, as warm as they are, scream at your soul. You can smell danger and yet, you keep getting closer. You keep yelling. He stopped stepping back and started pushing your buttons instead. He makes you taste rage, turns you into a hurricane and you snap at him.

    Afterwards, you're calm. You're calm and happy. He's your own personal vent.

    He snaps back, though. He snaps and he yells and the grip he has on your arm feels like a deadly trap. Shallow and weak. Those words fly off his tongue and, oh, how they sting.

    You're angry. He's angry. It's your dynamic. It calms you, sets you back on your feet. Is it hate? You don't know. He's not your pillar or shield, he's something else entirely.                                                                                    
    He's a sparring partner. You attack each other until you're exhausted. There are no rules, no restrictions. You just let it all out on him. The indents on the walls are shaped like his back and your arm has an imprint of his hand.       
     And yet, when he's not there, you're restless and your performance suffers. You miss the tight line of his lips, the dark lines encircling his eyes, the wild, uncontainable force that resides within him. You miss the rough grasp on your forearm and the soft fabric of his collar wrinkled in your clenched fists.

    He's here now, though. He's here and it's both different and the same. Both of you are more experienced and keep brushing up on your skills. Still, you live for the days when you get to let it all out, explode and scream and he's always there to take it all in and deliver a blow of his own. 

    Once, you broke under the pressure. You broke, collapsed, fell to the ground, exposed and vulnerable. Instead of smashing you into pieces, he picked you up. He picked you up and used those same sharp words to pull you back together. He did it as raw and rough as ever, but he stayed by your side.

    And you stayed by his. Time changed you both, turned your mindless, restless dynamic into something much deeper, something still raw, still not entirely in sync, but new nonetheless. You're both still new to each other, still fresh, but you keep working together. You fight and make up and when you bleed, you bleed together. In front of him you're bare. He can see your core and soul and every layer of yours. In front of his eyes, you're out in the open.

   Time passes and he knows you so well. His passion dissolves you and every contact you share feels so intimate your skin shivers. It burns you. He wipes your tears when you cry and when he's anxious you calm him down.

   Sometimes, though, it's him who makes you cry, curl up on yourself, naked and alone like the calm after the storm. Because, when he runs out like the storm he is, all he leaves behind is suffocating silence. You stay behind with his name on your lips, never said out loud, just lingering there like the last leaf on a barren tree.

    He always comes back. He comes back with sincere apologies on his lips, now soft, never tight when he's with you. He pulls you out of your grief and frustration, he holds you and unravels you, calms you down and, in those moments, he's like an open book. You hold him, too, because he wasn't all to blame. Even though he'd hurt you, you've hurt him too. You slowly heal each other and soon it's so much more because it's skin against skin, your lips clash and your rythm is perfect. He makes you feel and you unravel him as much as he unravels you. He gives and gives and you take it all in, because to you it's sacred. You melt into each other, become one and when you part, you're closer than ever.

    His last apology is silent, a touch against your skin, a steady force, now gentle, no longer against you but in your favor. 

    You love him. You love him so much you think you'll burst. And you've long before stopped doubting his love for you, because he shows it so purely, even if he doesn't say it all the time. Sometimes, though, in those little moments in the night he'll say it. He'll say it and his voice, so often used to throw insults and criticize, will shape your name as if it's reading a poem so pure and deep that his whole being cherishes it.

    "Shigeru."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My tumblr is petrodactyl.tumblr.com so feel free to ask questions there or do whatever really :)

**Author's Note:**

> English is my second language so if there are any mistakes, please do let me know.


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